For all that faire is, is by nature good;That is a signe to know the gentle blood.

The merry cuckow, messenger of Spring, His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded.

Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.

She bathed with roses red, And violets blew. And all the sweetest flowres That in the forrest grew.

So let us love, dear Love, like as we ought; Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.

I was promised on a time To have reason for my rhyme; From that time unto this season, I received nor rhyme nor reason.

Thankfulness is the tune of angels.

All for love, and nothing for reward.

Be bold, and everywhere be bold.

For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.

Men, when their actions succeed not as they would, are always ready to impute the blame thereof to heaven, so as to excuse their own follies.

My feeling is that labels are for canned food... I am what I am - and I know what I am.

I create little challenges for myself, like, 'Okay, whatever you do in this song, you've got to somehow work in Greek Cypriots,' or something like that.

When you're thirty you're old enough to know better,but still young enough to go ahead and do it.

In the end, we are only tiny frightened animals, doing our best to survive amid other tiny frightened animals.

She thinks petting me is an honor. This is an unexpected position to take for a goddess of slaughter, but I applaud her defiance of convention.

I just chill. I don't stand outside too much. I do what I gotta do and chill, man, know what I'm saying? That's all. It's cool.

You should have fallen in love with a happy man, if you wanted happiness. But no, you had to fall for the breathtaking beauty of pain.

Here are the Ten Commandments for a writer: Create, Create, Create, Create, Create, Create.

There has to be a certain relationship between the life and the writing style, and that is really a problem.

Tis said, fantastic ocean doth enfold The likeness of whate'er on land is seen.